


Mother

by GrammarGrrrl



Series: Drabbles from Dublin [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Original Character Death(s), cathartic writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7706749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrammarGrrrl/pseuds/GrammarGrrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For those who have read "From Dublin, With Love", this is a bit of backstory for Tauriel. This takes place a week after Tauriel's mother, Miriel, dies in a boating accident.</p><p>Song:<br/>"In The Flesh", Pink Floyd: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lTiVgcYA_4</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother

**Author's Note:**

> This work is actually cathartic writing. I gave the character Miriel my own mother's death date in her honor.
> 
> It hasn't been edited.
> 
> fuck, it hasn't even been proofread. 
> 
> I just had some time alone, and I needed to reflect and let go a little bit and address my own feelings or tomorrow would be overwhelming.

**Mother**

**August 16, 1996**  
Mirkwood Ranch  
6:59 am

_It’s coming._

_Are you there, Mommy?_

_Can you see me?_

_Can you hear me?_

_Why did you have to leave? I can’t bear it…_

_Please… come back… I miss you so much, Mommy… I’ll do anything… please, just come back…_

 

            The sky began to turn from a deep sapphire blue to a lighter periwinkle, she sat perched on the apex of the roof waiting for the exact, perfect moment. Despite her tiny arms, she had managed to drag her mother’s 24 inch speakers out her second story window on to the roof. Carefully, the 11-year-old girl aimed the speakers towards the lake, knowing the sound would echo back in a most inspiring way. It had taken her most of the night, she ran her hand over her hair- hacked and chopped in a haphazard way. That was what she had done before hauling the speakers up to the roof.

            She had stared at her reflection in the mirror for days since the accident, wishing the reflection would change. That she wouldn’t keep seeing her mother’s face reflected back at her. Those soulful brown eyes that felt like home, the warm auburn locks that smelled of cinnamon and campfire smoke, the comforting and familiar thud of her heart as she pressed her ear to her mother’s breast.

            It was all gone. The reflection wasn’t real. She grabbed the scissors and started hacking away at her hair until the face in the mirror didn’t look like anyone she recognized anymore.

_This is real._

_This is who I am now._

_I’m all alone._

            After that, she had gotten the most wonderful idea, and it was almost time.

            The speakers were perfectly placed. The sun was just about to crack over the horizon.

_It is time._

            She felt the sun crack the first rays of dawn on the land, and she stood to face the sun. She pressed play on the remote, and Pink Floyd’s “In the Flesh” began to play.

            As the loud guitar riffs shattered the silent dawn, the young girl held out her arms, waiting for an embrace that would never come. As the guitar slipped in to a minor key, the tears began to stream down her face. The music mimicked how she felt; desperately confused, alone… completely and utterly alone.

_“So ya… Thought ya… Might like to go to the show?”_

_Yes._

_“To feel the warm thrill of confusion, that space cadet glow?”_

_Anything but this desperate loneliness…_

_“Tell me is something eluding you, sunshine?  
Is this not what you expected to see?”_

_I want to see her. I miss her so much… Why?_

_“If you want to find out what's behind these cold eyes, you'll just have to claw your way through this disguise!”_

            The frail girl couldn’t stand for her despair, and as she felt a pair of familiar, strong arms wrap themselves around her.

            They collapsed to their knees on the roof, both of them sobbing, as the song came to a climax with the sound of an airplane crashing.

            “It’s ok, Tauriel,” Mick whispered as the song ended. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

…

            Mick was startled out of bed by the walls vibrating, and a guitar shattering the silent dawn. He hadn’t gotten much sleep this past week, dealing with Miriel’s funeral arrangements. He should be an expert at this by now, with all the people he’d had to bury in his life… but it was harder when the connection was deeper. Though they weren’t blood, Miriel was just as much his sister as any flesh and blood sibling would have been.

            Mick realized the house was shaking because of the music playing from the roof. He quickly followed the sound, passing the bathroom and finding the light on, the mirror shattered, and the sink full of a giant mass of red hair.

            Mick’s anxiety level sky rocketed, and he dashed for the sound- entering Miriel’s room and finding the window open and cords streaming out of it. Carefully, Mick shimmied up on to the roof where he found her.

            Standing there, arms wide as if expecting an embrace from the rising sun. The song climaxed, and Mick could see how frail and hollow his niece really looked. He ran forward, wrapping his arms around her to prevent her from falling off the roof. He wrapped his arms around her, and he sobbed with her… both of them missing a part of themselves that they would never get back.

            He rocked with her in his lap as the song ended, “It’s ok, Tauriel,” he whispered, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

            Tauriel continued sobbing as the last notes of the song echoed away across the lake and down in to town, replaced with shouting neighbors and barking dogs.

            He sat there with her as the sun came up, and Mick looked down at his frail niece; she had never known her father, he had died overseas. She was her world, and having been adopted, Miriel was the one person Tauriel knew was her family. Mick instantly thought of how Tolkien’s elves would fade with the death of a loved one, and cursed choosing such elvish names for his sister and her daughter.

            He was reeling from his own grief and had no clue how to help Tauriel deal with what was going on. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel for her… but he could hazard a guess.

            “I love you, Tauriel.” He ran his hand through her shorn hair, and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You are not alone. You will never be alone. Just because we aren’t bound by blood, doesn’t mean we aren’t bound by love. That’s what love is.”

            “Will it ever stop hurting?” Tauriel choked.

            “No.” Mick told her honestly. “It will always ache. But the ache will become easier over time. The happy memories will make you happy again, and they won’t hurt so much… but you have to remember, she is always there. She is a part of you forever.”

            Mick held his niece close to his chest, and gently stroked what remained of her hair. “Someday, when you have a child of your own, you’ll understand what I mean. For now, just remember that she is a part of you and you are never really alone.”

            The sun was burning off the morning mist, rising from the rains overnight. Mick wondered how in the hell she had managed to lug those enormous speakers on to the roof without falling and breaking her fool neck.

            “Let’s get inside. I think we need to get help. I don’t know how to help you, but I know we can find someone who can.” Mick helped Tauriel get down off the roof, giving absolutely zero fucks about the speakers. They weren’t exactly a priority.

**Author's Note:**

> 6/3/49 - 8/8/2014


End file.
